Bruno and Lydia

Today, in the Guardian’s lo-fi Tinder match, Bruno, 44, who works in aviation, meets Lydia, 36, a teacher. Works in aviation how, I wonder? Pilot? Cabin crew? Person who stands at the gate in a lurid necktie screaming ‘SPEEDY BOARDING ONLY’ on flight EZY053 to an airport 230 miles outside Stockholm? This shall remain cloaked in mystery.

Let’s have a look at them:

I don’t know what’s going on with these poses. Lydia looks like she’s running Batiste through her hair or trying to free a trapped wasp, which Bruno looks like he’s about to produce the Ace of Diamonds from up his sleeve to a group of rapt grannies at the Four O’Clock Club.

Either way, for the full story of what went down and then return here for a look at what we’re probably all thinking.

Bruno on Lydia | Lydia on Bruno

What were you hoping for?
A night with someone special, with great food, wine and some banter.

Banter. Even the word is quite triggering, immediately evocative of 100 Smithys from Gavin and Stacey and a single Olly Murs towel-whipping each other in the locker room of an Essex leisure centre.

What were you hoping for?
A fun evening that was different from dating via an app.

If you want a fun evening different from dating via an app, might I suggest eating 10 hot dogs then taking a trip on Galactica at Alton Towers, or perhaps walking into the American Bar at the Savoy and asking for a snakebite.

First impressions?
She looked cool and was much more relaxed than me. She was not the type of woman I would normally date.

‘Type.’ Do you have a ‘type’? I’m fascinated by this idea that we are drawn to a subset of partners and rarely stray from it. I don’t think I have a type, I certainly ran through many subsets in my single years LOL, but I suppose my two major boyfriends I’ve had are both Scottish with dark hair. Weird! Anyway, sorry for any spoilers but I think when Bruno says Lydia wasn’t his normal type, he means that she spoke.

What did you talk about?
Family. Work. Her disaster dates. Her dad trying to match her with random guys he meets at his local Tesco.

Our jobs – he travels a lot for work. Our families. Terrible past dates.

Work/our jobs ✅ – A teacher! A pilot (possibly)! It’s like they both have the kind of job you’d pick when you were 4. The dream!

Family/our families ✅ – On the whole a boring date topic if you ask me but I suppose it’s one way of deducing whether they’re related to a family of mass-murderers or the Rees-Moggs.

Disaster dates/terrible past dates ✅ – A third match! They really were listening. Or at the very least jostling for space in the conversation. This is the kind of chat you have when you know the date isn’t going anywhere, imo. It’s a conversation friends have, not lovers, unless you are characters in a rom-com and it furthers the plot. *sideways look to camera*

Her dad trying to match her with random guys he meets at his local Tesco – Lydia and her dad are characters in a new heartwarming movie coming this Christmas to the Hallmark Channel – Cupid Cleans Up in Aisle Three. Sponsored by Tesco. Features Bill Nighy as Dad, Chelsee Healey as a wisecracking checkout girl, and every relatively masculine out-of-work gay unthreatening actor they could find that wasn’t doing something else, as a series of rejected dates. Romantic lead played by whoever leaves Emmerdale three weeks before filming begins. Guest starring Patsy Palmer as the ghost of Cilla Black.

Most awkward moment?
When the waiter offered us wine and she said she was not drinking. It was a sacrifice, but I had to drink the whole bottle myself.

Most awkward moment?
The end was a bit awkward as you don’t often just say bye to people and then walk in different directions.

Don’t you? Isn’t that how… most partings happen? What do you usually do, Lyds? Run alongside their train in floods of tears? Recite the lyrics to ‘Right Here Waiting’ (a number 2 smash for Richard Marx in September 1989 – I like to keep my references frrrrrrresh)? (I know she means there was absolutely zero chemistry so there was no kiss or hug or anything, please don’t write in.)

Describe Lydia in three words.
Smart, self-assured, foodie.

SMART, like the tailored suit you wore to an event that someone you don’t know that well or really like said was ‘dressy’ only to find when you get there that everyone is in leopard-print Oodies and  slouch socks.
SELF-ASSURED, like someone who slams down their credit card on the silver tip tray in a Bella Pasta with the confidence of someone who just became a major shareholder of BP.
FOODIE, like someone who eats something and goes ‘nom’ then tells you a boring fact about olive oil.

Describe Bruno in three words.
Chatty, friendly, confident.

CHATTY, like… ooooh a man getting called chatty. Behold the hen’s tooth of the GBD column. Anyway, CHATTY, like someone who won’t shut up.
FRIENDLY, like the villagers always are to the lovely new couple who move in, until one of them coughs after midnight or asks ‘So what happened to the little old lady who used to live in our strangely cold cottage? And what are those weird markings on the garden wall?’
CONFIDENT, like a pair of roller-skates made out of Bodyforms.

What do you think they made of you?
Hopefully my name will not be added to her disaster-dates list.

I’d say he thinks I’m outgoing. After some of the solo travel stories I told him, he probably thinks I’m bonkers.

Diners on the next table:

You don’t have to be mad to go on a Guardian Blind Date, but it helps.

This sounds like hard work, doesn’t it? I’m sure they are lovely, but these two are the kind of people I’m always stuck behind in the queue for the post office, giving it full-life story to the clerk when all I want to do is buy a stamp.

Did you go on somewhere?
I half-heartedly said it would be silly to go for a nightcap as she was not drinking. She quickly agreed.

No, he offered but I had to be up early.

If you could change one thing about the evening what would it be?
It was a nice evening, but no spark.

We are both extroverts and used to carrying the conversation, and Bruno said he asked for someone who was more introverted, which I think would have worked better.

People often go on about being extroverted or introverted, don’t they? I suppose it’s useful to understand yourself and apply it to your daily life, but also… all this analysing of every single thing we do and what it means. Pathologising your most mundane habits. I suppose I’d never thought of how two extroverts might actually get on – I don’t think about extroverts at all, unless I’m trying to get away from one, in a bar. Are they saying, as extroverts, they need someone to just sit there and listen to them talk absolute shite all night? Is that how it works? God, LUCKY old introverts, eh? I’m not entirely sure that’s how things should work. If you want a rapt audience, go on TikTok.

But I get it, in a way, you want to compliment each other, not be locked in permanent battle for control. But maybe you could try meeting halfway? Maybe that’s what an introvert-extrovert relationship does, one tempers the madness while the other coaxes them out of their shell. I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about myself in this way. Sometimes I am loud and chatty and sometimes I am not.

It sounds like Bruno and Lydia sat there like two hairdryers on full power, heat setting 3, blasting at each other until it was time to go home.

Marks out of 10?
6.

The restaurant was amazing and Bruno was chatty and friendly. So 6.5.

Sixes! Zeroes with benefits! Economy Plus! Homeopathic praise! Noughts in eyeshadow! Anyway, good luck to them. I hope they both find the meek and mild good listeners they’re dreaming of.

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Something to remember about the review and the daters that I put at the end of every review

The comments I make are based on answers given by participants. The Guardian chooses what to publish and usually edits answers to make the column work better on the page. Most things I say are riffing on the answers given and not judgements about the daters themselves, so please be kind to them in comments, replies, and generally on social media. Daters are under no obligation to get along for our benefit, or explain why they do, or don’t, want to see each other again, so please try not to speculate or fill our feeds with hate. If you’re one of the daters, get in touch if you want to give me your side of the story. Lydia, if you fancy teaming up for a novelisation of Cupid Cleans Up on Aisle Three, hit me up. Bruno, please can you hook me up with free cabin baggage allowance? Cheers. 

Bruno and Lydia ate at Angelina, London E8. Fancy a blind date? Email blind.date@theguardian.com